Chapter 43
VAUGHN
“It’s called Dissociative Identity Disorder.”
It’s dark, and I’m lying in bed with Evelina, where we’ve just woken up after sleeping all day. Sabine is still out cold in the guest room Evelina and I carried her to before we fell into our own bed.
I woke up briefly about two hours ago and saw on my group chat with the guys that my earlier request for help had been taken care of.
Carson
Marcus, I regret to inform you that your dead grandfather has died. Again. My continued condolences.
Sebastian
STFU weirdo
Sebastian
V, we took care of the body. All good. Hope you’re resting up.
Carson
He’s being coy. We know you’re fine. Gideon snuck into your room and checked on you.
Sebastian
Bro you are such a fucking narc it's insane.
Gideon
Everyone chill. Just wanted to make sure you were ok, Vaughn. The bandages on your ribs look good, but you should get those bruises on the side of your face looked at. That might be an orbital fracture.
Carson
Fun fact: before he fled the regime, Gideon was actually #1 surgeon in his homeland.
Gideon
Dude, you are so fucking weird.
Carson
I’m not the one trying to sneak peeks at Marcus and his lady friend.
Gideon
It shouldn’t need saying, but I obviously did NOT peek at Evelina.
Gideon
But she should have that shiner on her jaw looked at.
Evelina's gray eyes glint in the dark.
“They used to call it multiple personality disorder.”
Her brows knit. “How long have you…is had it the right expression?”
I nod. “Since I was a kid. It typically stems from severe childhood trauma.”
She shifts closer to me and kisses my chest. “I’m so sorry,” she says quietly, looking up at me. “That makes me so fucking angry at your dad. I mean, Jesus.”
She’s potentially going to be a lot madder at Morgan if some of the things I’ve been looking into over the last few weeks unfold the way I suspect they might.
But it’s that “I’m so sorry” that just…
Fuck.
I haven’t told many people about my disorder. Gideon knows. So does Sabine, as did Stellan. They share the same anger that I have at the childhood and the parents that led to the condition.
But Evelina is the first person who’s seen the flawed human I am and voiced sorrow, not anger, at the scars of my past.
“Do you…” Her brows furrow. “Never mind.”
“You can literally ask me anything, baby,” I murmur.
Her lips twist before her eyes drag back to mine. “I mean… In the movies, there are different voices and whole separate personalities…”
I smile. “It’s not quite that dramatic—well, not usually.”
She nods. “But you do have different…”she frowns. “Would you call them personalities?”
I nod. “Sort of. Some people call them ‘alters’. I’ve always referred to mine as ‘others’.
For the most part, it’s like highly focused, compartmentalized emotive states that will occasionally be extra vocal in my head.
Like I’ll get angry, but it's because the 'other' who controls anger is currently steering the ship. Or sadness. Or vengeance. Things like that.”
She smiles and leans down to kiss my chest again. “That’s actually fascinating.”
Where did you come from, Evelina Nikitin…
Even as I’m smiling at her, I see her expression falter.
“Last night,” she says quietly. “When I found you with…him…” Her eyes snap to mine. “We don’t have to talk about it if—”
“I’d actually like to talk about all of it with you,” I murmur.
She smiles.
“When I walked in, you were telling me that he wasn’t real. Like, you could see him, but you thought he was a manifestation or an other or an alter or whatever.”
Yeah.
I’ve been thinking about that pretty much nonstop since I realized down in that basement that she could see him, too.
That Quentin wasn’t an especially strong other inside me like Demon, but that he was alive.
And thus killable.
But that realization is a big one, and I’m fully aware that there’s probably still a part of me that's in shock about it.
It’s got to come out at some point, though. Because accepting that my “dead” grandfather was actually alive all these years doesn’t just have ramifications for the recent past.
It goes way back.
I was five when I first started to have conversations with “the others”.
No surprise, Demon with his intense anger was first. But then came profound sadness. Shame and anxiety were next, and so it went.
I was seven when Quentin showed up.
He was different than the others, who had mostly just talked to me in my head, or who I saw only vaguely in the mirror on occasion. The “manifestation” of a dead grandfather I’d barely ever heard of was so real. So tangible.
And since my DID has a way of blurring my perception of reality, I suppose I just accepted it. Especially since I was a kid in a broken home so desperate for a lifeline.
So when Quentin appeared and had answers and solutions, I listened.
He told me about the Syndicate, and the safehouse, and how I could become part of a brotherhood that was bigger than me.
He insisted that I’d been born to climb the ranks of this brotherhood, and one day lead it with him at my side.
Twenty-one years later, realizing that this “manifestation” was a real man, is…
Chilling.
Maybe a little embarrassing.
And a pretty fucking damning testament to exactly how fucking messed up my mind really is.
Evelina is crying by the time I finish telling her all this. She sobs against my chest, holding me tightly as she kisses my skin, telling me how sorry she is.
“That doesn’t say shit about you,” she hisses, looking up at me with tear-streaked, angry eyes. “It says your grandfather was a monster who manipulated a child, whom he knew had severe mental health issues, for his own purposes,” she chokes, angrily shaking her head. “You were a kid, Vaughn.”
My jaw grinds. “Well, but then I was a teenager, and then an adult, and I still perceived him as this part of my psyche,” I growl. “Because my head is so fucked up that I apparently can’t tell reality—”
“Vaughn.”
Her soft hand cups my face, pulling my eyes to hers.
“Give yourself a little grace,” she says quietly.
I wrap my arms around her and bury my face in her hair, kissing the top of her head as she burrows against me.
“It was him, by the way,” she says after a moment.
I frown. “What?”
“I recognized Quentin’s voice when I went down there. I couldn’t place it until later.” She bites her lip. “The man who attacked me the other day, outside the party. He told me ‘you’re ruining everything’ and ‘stay the fuck away from Vaughn’.” She nods. “That’s who it was.”
Jesus.
Thank fucking God.
It wasn’t me.
It wasn’t US.
I never truly thought I’d be capable of hurting her like that, even if I lost total control. But still. It’s a weight lifted from my chest to know for sure.
It still doesn’t explain the missing chunk of time that night, or the blood on my hands. That's…worrying.
“Are there any others?” she asks suddenly. “I mean if you could accept that Quentin was a figment of your mind…”
My jaw tightens. “You’re wondering if there are other ‘others’ inside of me who I see and interact with as viscerally as I did with him.”
She nods quietly.
Don’t you fucking dare spill our secret, motherfucker.
Historically, it's only rarely that I’ve been able to consciously shut Demon up.
But ever since I crossed paths with Evelina, that’s changed. Not completely. But I do have the ability to wrest control back, and to quiet him.
And that ability has only grown more powerful the longer I’ve been with her.
Don’t think for a fucking moment that we’ll allow ourselves to be shut—
This is a private conversation. Goodbye.
Silence fills my head.
“Yes,” I say quietly. “His name is Demon.”
I feel Evelina shiver against me.
I smile. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.
It’s just a name I gave him years and years ago.
” My brow furrows. “The thing is, I used to fear him, because I thought he was fury or malice or something, and he was so much stronger than the rest. But I think I understand him more as I’ve gotten older.
” I shake my head, smiling. “He’s drive.
He’s what kept me alive all those years back in McKeesport, when I was coming apart at the seams. He helped me survive.
He kept me going forward, always climbing, always reaching for the next rung. ”
I cup her face and look deep into her eyes.
“He’s not evil, though he’s capable of terrible things. But I think he’s simply my ambition.” I smile wryly. “You’ve, uh…met him. Several times.”
She arches a curious brow. “I have?”
“You were asleep.”
She frowns. “I don’t—”
Her eyes widen as it hits her. Then her cheeks flush.
“Oh,” she says quietly.
“I’d say you rather like him,” I murmur.
I exhale slowly.
“So… There it is,” I growl. “Now you know all my dirty, fucked-up secrets.” My mouth twists as I look at her. “Now’s your chance to run,” I say quietly, only half kidding.
She starts to roll her eyes, but I shake my head.
“I’m serious, Evelina,” I murmur. “I’m not just a little tweaked in the head.
I am profoundly fucked up.” I choke a cold laugh.
“I mean for fuck’s sake, I’ve had sidebar convos with Demon even as we’ve been talking just now.
I woke up in my car the night you were attacked with blood on my hands and I didn’t know if it’d been me who hurt you, because he was running the show. ”
Her brows pinch. “Do you think you’d ever be capable of doing that?” she says quietly. “I mean of hurting me, and not in the way we both like—”
“Never in a million fucking years,” I growl immediately.
Right?
Fuck no. We enjoy her pussy far too much.
Be serious.
Consider the context of that request.
I am, and be fucking serious.
No. Obviously, we’d never harm her like that, and quite frankly, we’re insulted you ever thought we would.
I clear my throat and let my eyes focus on hers again. “Never,” I growl.
Evelina’s lip catches in her teeth. “Where did you go just now? Your eyes sort of faded out and you…” she arches a brow. “Were you talking to him?” she says quietly. “To Demon?”
My jaw tightens.
“You can tell me,” she says softly. “You don’t have to hide it or feel embarrassed. It doesn’t at all change what I feel for you.”
I have no idea how a woman this incredible exists.
I exhale slowly. “Yeah,” I murmur. “I was.”
She smiles. “And?”
“He’s, uh…” I clear my throat. “He’s a big fan of yours.”
She grins. “Well thank you, Demon. I’m a big fan of yours, too.” She blushes and chews on her lip again as she looks up into my eyes. “Was he…in charge, when you came to my room at night and, you know…”
I nod. “Sometimes, yeah.”
Her lips twist.
“Have you ever done that to any other girls?” she says quietly. “I mean has Demon ever instructed you, or driven you to—”
“No,” I growl instantly. “Never.”
“You’re sure?”
I nod as I lower my mouth to hers and kiss her slowly. “Beyond a shadow of doubt,” I murmur against her lips.
“Good,” she says tightly, a little smirk teasing the corners of her lips. Her eyes drag back to mine. “Now, if I did still want to run away from you and all of this…”
My jaw tightens, and I grit my teeth at the stabbing sensation that cuts into me.
But this was always a possibility with sharing all of this with her. And after the shit I just told her, there’s no way I could blame her for wanting to get the fuck away from—
“Would you chase me?”
My brow knits. “What?”
Evelina grins as she bites her lip. “If I ran,” she says quietly, her eyes locked with mine. “Would I be chased?”
My mouth curls into a grin.
“Most certainly,” I murmur.
“You’d better!” she giggles as I kiss her.
I lose myself in her kiss, tasing every moan and every swipe of her tongue as she melts against me. But when she pulls back, her brow is furrowed.
“If we’re putting everything on the table” she shudders, “I have to tell you something.”
I nod and hold her close, cupping her face and forcing her eyes to look into mine. “Whatever it is, princess” I growl, “you can tell me.”
Her face twists. “I…before…” She takes a shaky breath. “When I first was trying to join the Syndicate, it wasn’t just because I wanted you to help my father.”
I smile quietly. “You were looking for Diego Torvallés’ bastard heir.”
Her jaw drops. “You KNEW!?”
My mouth curls as I chuckle. “Of course. But you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
She frowns. “Vaughn, he threatened Val, and my brother—”
“I mean you don’t have to worry about Diego at all anymore. He’s dead.”
Her eyes widen.
“I heard last night,” I say quietly. “Right before everything else happened. He was drunk on his yacht, fell off, and got hit by the propeller.”
Evelina blinks rapidly. “He...” Her eyes snap to mine. “You’re serious?!”
I nod. “It’s quite the uproar right now, with there being no obvious next in line for the throne aside from Andrés.”
She balks. “Holy shit.”
“I mean, there are two daughters. But Marcela quit the family over some drama a few years ago, and Claudia is twenty-one years old with nasal cavities permanently stuffed full of cocaine.” I smile wryly.
“In any case, princess…” I lean down and kiss her softly.
“Your problem with the Torvallés family is over.”
She melts against me as she touches my face and kisses me.
“Can I ask just one more thing?” she says with a small smile, pulling back.
“Of course.”
“Is there a cure? I mean, for the others?"
I shake my head. “No. But there’s treatments. Trauma-focused and cognitive behavioral therapy. Dialectic behavior therapy. Psychotherapy. EMDR therapy.”
“So the theme here is…” She frowns thoughtfully, tapping her chin. “Therapy?”
I grin. “Smartass.”
She grins back. “Have you ever tried any of them?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“Why not?”
“I just…haven’t,” I shrug. “Maybe I subconsciously knew that Demon was my driving force and what was keeping me moving forward. I think maybe part of me worried that if therapy carved all of that fucked-up-ness out of me, it would take him, too, And he might be a fucking lunatic, but he’s kept me alive more times than I can count.
” I snort and roll my eyes. “Or who the fuck knows.”
Evelina slides her eyes to mine. “Would you?” She blushes. “Try therapy?”
My brow arches. “Are you asking me to?”
“I’m asking if you would.”
I frown as I slowly nod. “I think so.”
“Then I’m asking you to,” she says quietly. “Not because I’m scared of any of them, even Demon…”
Yeah, her PUSSY is scared of us…scared of how much it fuckin’ likes us…
Shut the fuck up.
Evelina clears her throat. “This isn't a dealbreaker here. Seriously. I just really want what's best for you.”
I smile curiously at her. “Why is that, princess?”
She rolls her eyes. “Because I love you. Duh.”